From my Blood
by Mansa
Summary: My version of Siegfried's life story. It begins before Soul Blade, as Siegfried is a simple page. There will be no Nightmare, as he would give me to much to write.
1. From my Blood

**From my Blood **

**Note:** I did weeks of research on Knighthood, Pages, Squires, and such before I started writing this. Unfortunately, most of the information I gathered was based on the 13th century. Soul Calibur's story takes place during the late 16th century.  
I don't quite think it was good enough information, but I decided to just start writing it based on the information I already had. I'm not very smart in the everyday life of a 16th century German knight.

Oh yeah, and thanks to a few friends and Daniel for helping me on some stuff.  
This fanfic will also be updated frequently, so it's not one of those one-shot-story kind of things like my usual fanfics. Okay, please enjoy.

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**Chapter 1:**

Siegfried grumbled, as his hands were burning from all the cargo he had been carrying. He winced and took a break, sitting on the end of the wooden carrier. He unstrapped and removed the elegantly leather sewed gloves, running his arm across his forehead and letting out a sigh. Black traces of charcoal was smeared down his face, making a messy wet blend with the sweat that dripped down his chin.  
It was a busy day, he was far to overly worked. It seemed every bone and muscle in his body ached when he went to sleep and when he woke up. He was a small and frail teenager, at a tender age of fifteen. His father was always gone. Siegfried didn't even know where his father was most of the time, when he would ask his Mother, she'd smile and look at him with bright eyes, and continue doing whatever she was doing.  
Siegfried was enraged and sick of it. The town priest called him a devious little tyrant and sensed something so dark that lurked in his soul. It was true he had a lot of hatred built up. Hatred for the world, his father and his duties. Most of it supported his upbringing. His childhood was far from glorious. He was often neglected and never cared for. His father was harsh and strict on the small child, but did it out of love. His Mother would always be scolded if she dared interfere with his training. He began resenting his Faust and his training.

But he decided he wouldn't care of it to much. He never talked about himself to anyone. He hardly even talked to anyone at all. Siegfried wasn't exactly the type you could get closed to. He had a witty sarcastic personality, which continuously made him fall in disfavor with his peers. But he cared nothing of the sort, as long as it would keep those goody idiots that were always sucking up to the brave knights away from him.  
He realized that he had been laying on the carrier for quite a while and slowly sat up, groaning and using his arms to support him. He still ached, but knew his work wasn't finished yet. He slowly stood to his feet, his legs quivering from his overly worked muscles and proceeded to breath heavy and heave a big tied up block of hay over his shoulder. He was relieved that the sun was beginning to set and the sky turned into beautiful shades of purple and orange. It meant he could soon return back to his room and fall asleep.  
He hurried down the streets of the village, partially avoided hitting into others. He hurried down the dirt road, panting. He looked a dirty mess and would need a bath. Charcoal stained clothes and black smudged down his skin. His hair was messy and slicked back from his sweating forehead. But he got to the small barn and without interacting with anyone. Panting, Siegfried gazed around to see if anyone was in sight and dropped the big block of hay from his shoulder, making a rather loud thump, startling the chickens that were fluttering all around the farm.  
"Notwendigkeit Schlaf..." Siegfried muttered as he stretched his arms and lazily sat his butt down onto the stack of hay, his legs thumping up in the air, then his feet hitting the ground. He mumbled under his breath, his words not quite clear enough to understand as he reached to a small pouch that hung at his side and opened it, digging through it until he felt what he had been looking for. He pulled his hand up, pulling up a big red apple. He stretched his arms and shook his head back and fourth lazily and pulled his knee up to it was just an inch from touching his chin as the heel of his shoe rested on the edge of the hay. He took a bite from the apple, as he sat there and watched as the sun was going down. He really didn't feel like returning home.

Siegfried didn't have really any people he could call his friends. People so easily got on his nerves to much for him to maintain any friends. Most of his peers and superiors respected him, but others thought he was just an arrogant boy with nothing better to do than take his anger out on violence or theft. He was a troublemaker no doubt and was constantly giving his Mother more than a few headaches to worry about.  
He constantly crunched down on the apple, his dirty hands were dirtying the apple, but he didn't really care. He was starving, without anything to eat all day. He just slipped an apple in his left pouch of his pants after walking by a small fruit stand at the edge of the town.  
After finishing the apple he tossed the core over his shoulder and stretched once more before standing up and making his way home. It was almost dark and all the candles that lit the streets were starting to fade. Siegfried knew he was going to be in trouble for getting home after dark, but as he did with everything else, didn't care. He pulled his hands behind his head and walked at a steady pace, drifting off in his own thoughts.

He let out a small yawn as he entered his home. His Mother was no where in sight, as he lightly unbuckled his belt and laid it down so that it made no sound, then pulled his tunic out of his pants and pulled it over his head, laying it down on top the belt. He looked around their home a bit more, then hurried to his room, without so much as cleaning himself up.  
"Holy mother of God! What is that smell?!" Siegfried heard a yell and stopped in his tracks before he could even flop onto his bed.  
His Mother then entered his room and in an instant snatch, grabbing his arm and pulled him from his room and began dragging him outside. Siegfried snarled and growled, he hated being treated like a baby and he didn't think he smelled so bad. It was his Mothers way of showing affection he guessed. She pulled him outside and grabbed the sides of her dress and neatly sat down, undoing his pants and removing his boots. Siegfried calmly sat down on the hard stoned floor, almost falling over from his Mother disrobing him.  
He sat with his legs neatly crossed, as his Mother poured a bucket of freezing water over his head, making him soaked. He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself.  
"Mother! It's freezing!" the sound of his teeth clamping together.  
"It would've been warm if you had gotten home earlier." His Mother replied, pouring another bucket of freezing water over his head and scrubbing his face with a piece of cloth, cleaning the smeared charcoal. He quickly adapted to the cold water though and let his Mother scrubbed him. He was always so stubborn and would never bath or clean himself. He always smelled like road kill when he got home from work, which left his Mother to clean him up.

She scrubbed him until she felt he was clean enough and proceeded to stand and walk back inside the house and grab some scented oils to hide his filthy smell. Siegfried quivered from the water and hung his head low. He began to sit up, but noticed his Mother wasn't finished with him and starred at her with a slightly opened mouth. She held her long dress up a bit to avoid getting it wet, because of the soaked stoned ground.  
She poured small drops of oil in her palm from the tiny containers and rubbed the oils into his cheeks and shoulders with a small smile on her face. Siegfried squinted as pressure applied to his face. He growled back in his mind at the thought of his Mother making him smell like a girl. He'd probably run off early next morning and roll around in the dirt and filth to get the smell off him, his Mother would predict. Siegfried was much to stubborn to show any signs of respect towards his elders.  
"You smell better now, you should get to bed mein Sohn." his Mother dried him off, as he began changing in new clean clothes. He yawned a bit, but refused to admit he was tired and worn out. His eyes could barely stay half opened, as he pulled on a pair of baggy white pants and buckled them up and retreated back to his room.  
He had delicate bright blue eyes and thick blonde hair with long bangs that was curled around his forehead and sometimes hung over his eye, while it was very short and kept well in the back. His Mother never really had time for him and didn't specially give him much attention, only every here and there. When she wouldn't cut his hair, he did it himself.  
He curled up in his bed and pulled his sheets over himself, still quivering, but shortly yawned and fell fast to sleep.


	2. Arrogance

**From my Blood  
****Chapter 2:**

Siegfried's father, Frederick, walked on back to the small home he was staying. He was a bit dreary from reading all the letters, reporting of his son misbehaving. He grumbled at his sons awful intention of causing trouble and mayhem back home. He did miss the boy much, and his beautiful wife. He was never home, Siegfried felt it was his fathers own fault for not being home as much as he'd like. Siegfried always felt a hatred for his father, burning inside.  
He did love his father unconditionally, but that bastard was the reason why their family was so dysfunctional, he thought.

It was a small celebration back at all of the Holy Roman Empire. Siegfried walked through the colorful dirt street, his Faust carried with ease over his left shoulder, as he glanced at the people passing by. Festivities in the empire were always lame and predictable. Who in their right mind would want to buy such junk that was spread all over the streets in small wooden stands?  
He sighed and shook his head as he noticed how crowded the streets were. Packed with commoners and wealthy alike.  
Siegfried decided he had to get away from all the noise and Babel of the streets, as he quickly dodged and hid out in a nearby Tavern, growling under his breath and mocking the pestering villagers. He turned to see that it was very quiet and soothing in the Tavern. Brightly lit and only a few others sitting around and discussing topics with alcohol on their tables.  
A small smile of relief fell upon his lips as he sighed and pushed his bangs out of his eyes and took a nearby seat in a smaller corner of the Tavern to distance himself from the others. He slouched very immaturely and observed his surroundings.  
Soon after he was greeted with a smiling face of a woman, setting a drink down in front of him.  
"Would you like anything else?" she asked very softly as she swayed a bit to the left and right.

Siegfried ignored the woman and took the handle of the metal cup and sipped the liquid that it contained fluently. He had an emotionless expression on his face like he always did and set a few coins on the table in front of the woman to be respectful.  
The woman took the coins and set them in a pocket of her apron, still smiling a bit, but took the offering at a que to leave him be and left.

The young energetic boy was enjoying himself as he peeked at the paintings that hung on the wall. They were beautiful paintings with dim oil painted colors and gentle brush strokes. Gently blended colors and very high details. Siegfried's eyes wandered across the display on the wall, observing little things that were so insignificant.  
He noticed he zoned out a bit, as he turned to pay attention to the activity in the Tavern. It was still fairly small and quiet. A man stood on a tiny wood set in the far off corner of the Tavern and played a relaxing tune on the flute as he pranced his feet around and did a small Irish dance. The music wasn't to loud and Siegfried found it to be comforting as he sipped more of his drink and rested the cup on the table. He pushed the back of his hand up the side of the cup to catch a drip of water from hitting the table and wiped the drop off on his pants.  
His peaceful thoughts were quickly and loudly interrupted when a small gang of armored boys, Siegfried's age, walked into the Tavern in a loud riot. The adapted peace in the Tavern was un-welcoming to the loud bunch of boys.  
Siegfried knew the boys, they were a snobby bunch who molested woman older than them and picked on others. He even had to train with a few of them.

The group was small, around four or five boys. But as small as they were, made up in how ignorant and annoying they were.  
Siegfried's peaceful expression quickly changed to a frown and narrowed eyes. He did his best to ignore the annoyance, and sipped his drink.  
They were loud and unbarring, making loud thumps as they walked and sat at a table near Siegfried's. His back was turned to the rest of the Tavern, so he was a bit clueless to their activity.

One boy went as far as to grab the waitress and pull her into his lap, stroking her left breast with a lustful grin on his face.  
"How're you today? Or maybe I'll find out for myself," he chuckled as the waitress screamed and kicked a bit to get loose, before smacking him right across his tan sweating face. They all laughed at the queer scene, the waitress fixing her dress and walking away. The older men in the Tavern didn't care to pay attention to the tippler group, except for Siegfried who was rubbing his forehead in circular motions and holding his head low to try and block out the laughing, that excessive laughing of one particular male.  
He grinded his teeth and rubbed his forehead until he started to feel a warm heat reaching his fingertips.  
The boy laughed so loudly and high-pitched. He sounded like some kind of dying rodent, he wouldn't stop laughing. Siegfried turned to look at the commotion, his back being hit more than a few times from the energetic and continuous squirming and moving. The laughing kid's face was turning a mixture of blue and red. His face was sweating and his hair lengthy in an ugly manner. His jolly cheeks lit up in a bright red color and he was unusually fatter than the other boys. His armor was lazily put on and his stench was unbearably filling the room.

Siegfried turned to once again avoid them, but the bitter got the best of him as he clutched aggressively on the hilt of his Faust and slowly walked his way to the table. The boys turned to look at Siegfried with grins on their faces.  
"Look! It's Sieggy-fried. He's so tiny!" they laughed, especially the fat boy with the hyena laugh.  
Siegfried remained calm with a blank face and held his Zweihander, aiming it back and dug it right through his meant target, the boy's right shoulder. The boy fell helpless to the floor, holding the wound in his shoulder and starred up at Siegfried with angst in his eyes. Siegfried unintentionally made the wound deeper than he wanted to, making it bleed much rapidly.  
"What the hell was that for, Siegfried?!" the boy questioned as he squirmed in pain and bit his bottom lip, clutching harder on his wound. The others looked on and up to Siegfried, it was a violent way of shutting them up, but he did.  
"I didn't like your laugh," Siegfried replied in a mild tone, holding his weapon to his side. The boy looked up into Siegfried's face, a bit curious.  
"Next time you anger me, you'll get something shoved through you that is sharper than this dull Zweihander!" Siegfried chuckled and left the scene, holding his Faust over his shoulder as he continued to walk home.


	3. Inside and Out

**From my Blood  
Chapter 3: **

_"Siegfried. Siegfried. Siegfried! Siegfried!!" The young boy, dressed in a fancy coat of armor and metal, stood before the wind to the dark world. He could see nothing through his bright blue eyes that starred onward into the sky.  
'Was someone calling my name? Who is looking for me?' he wondered, as he turned back, his eyes dazed and half open as his bangs blew across his face and forehead. He saw no one in the distance. Was he alone? _

_"Stehen Sie auf und kämpfen Sie. Sie pathetische Entschuldigung für einen Krieger! Stellen Sie die Welt und den Kampf gegenüber! Errichten Sie Ihren Zorn, hassen Sie mich!"  
"Father... Father!" he reached out to cling to his Father, as his legs stumbled and he nearly tripped, falling to the ground. Siegfried looked as his eyes became more glazed and his lips departed slowly as if to cry out for help. A single tear falling down the side of his face. _

Siegfried shortly awoke, panting lightly and drenched in his own sweat.  
He quickly wiped his face with the back of his arm and ran his fingers through his hair as he slowly sat up, his muscles aching. He turned to look out of his window as he pushed the sheets away from his body. The sun was up and it was morning, he was late for work.  
Siegfried squinted and slowly inched away from his bed, slowly standing to his feet. He lightly massaged the side of his neck, hoping for comfort.  
'The body pains must've caused the nightmares... I was out to late last night.' he thought to himself as he hurried to put on his normal outfit with his white baggy pants and orange shirt with hints of black that was neatly tucked into his pants.

He began to try and hurry, as he put on his boots. Siegfried bit down on his bottom lip, ignoring the pains in all parts of his body as much as possible and just endured it, heading out of the house as he sneaked past his Mother. Knowing his Mother as well as he does, she would force him to stay home and rest. His Master was always a real hot head man and would have his ass for skipping out on his chores.  
Siegfried walked down the quiet little streets. The quiet, calm noises of the street was a relief. He wasn't in the mood to put up with the busy villagers today. Including whatever would be left of the loud celebration that lasted through the night. He slowly, but surely made his way down the calm street, his Faust hauled over his shoulder, gliding down his mid back.

Did he pray before he went to bed? He thought on as he tried to tune his mind to something else to ignore his aches.  
He must've forgot to. He was much to tired to do anything else and just hit the hay. His Mother would be angry if she knew. But she would eventually find out, she asked him everyday if he prayed to God to heal his troublesome ways and straighten his rebelling and aggressive attitude. There were many times when Siegfried would grow out of control and just do as he pleased. This was the reason he felt like his Mother never loved him. Was he really such a horrible person that his own parents couldn't love him?  
His Mother never gave him enough love and care. Siegfried was such a hard person to love. His sinful and blood thirsty behavior led him to become unlovable, even by his own kin. He would always eventually just blame his Father for all of it.  
Why did he have to be so angry? Life just wasn't worth living. It's time to give up.  
Siegfried felt the anger swirling about in his stomach once more, he began biting down harder on his bottom lip and realized someone approaching him from behind.

Siegfried quickly turned around, a small gasp escaping his lips. It was the trouble-makers from last night again. Were they planning on evening the score? Siegfried narrowed his eyebrows as he opened his mouth to tell their pathetic souls off, but before he could notice, was kneed in the middle of his spine, sending a jolt of pain and stun up his back, as he fell forward, luckily catching himself on his knee, practically kneeling at the boy he was facing.  
Siegfried bit down on his lip again, trying not to scream in pain. His whole body was much to weak to defend himself, he laid helplessly as the mercy of the gang. His bangs dangled in front of his face as he gazed up at the boy before him with an angry expression.  
He opened his lips once more to yell in frustration and tell them off, but was immediately shutten up with a elbow to the back of his head, causing him to fall down more, still staying up barely by kneeling and holding himself on his knee.

He was soon surrounded with a bunch of them wanting a piece of the action.  
"Ha ha! Look at him! He's going to cry!" the boy who stood in front of him kneeled down to his level and laughed it up in his face.  
"I don't cry and I won't cry for the likes of you, you trashy scrub." Siegfried grumbled and tried to defend him by slashing through them with his handy Faust, but even his arms were to weak to lift it and it just fell silent in the dirt.  
"What did you call me?! How dare you talk to me like so! After you humiliated and wounded be at the Tavern last night!" he aimed his fist back and struck Siegfried in the face, causing Siegfried to finally lose his stance and fall on his side in pain. He hit his shoulder against the dirt and crossed his arms in front of him. He knew if he wouldn't get up, he'd just be hit more and more until he'd finally be a bloody pulp and would eventually be left to die.

He put his arms out in front of him, trying to sit up, but let out small painful cries and fell back down as he realized his back was damaged more than he thought. He quickly reached for his Faust to try and keep them away, but one of them stomped their heavy metal boot right on Siegfried's wrist, pinning it down to the ground, causing a loud pop sound of his wrist breaking, then kicking his Faust out of hard reach with the other foot. Siegfried cried in pain more as he laid helplessly, enduring the torture. Other approached him and looked down at the sad and pathetic sight with grins and laughter. They proceeded to kick him in his sides and legs, then kneeling down to punch him in the face. Drops of blood began surrounding areas of his body, a line of blood falling from the side of his mouth. Siegfried continued to struggle, but refused to beg for mercy or cry.

After half an hour of abuse, they finally laughed and threw his Faust on top of his chest and walked away with their swords and such. Clouds were cluttering the sky and it began to rain, pouring down on top of Siegfried. The weak young boy was to hurt and broken to move, so he laid still, hoping for someone who had witnessed the brutal abuse carry him home.  
He tried to move his arms and lips to call for help, but was of no use. He attempted to throw his Faust off of his chest which was making it harder for him to breath, as he gasped for air. The rain became more violent and poured heavier, causing the dirt he was laying in to change into bloody mud puddles. Siegfried continued to try and cry out for help and finally gathered enough strength to scream for help, but no one would be able to hear him through the harsh raining.

He laid his head back down, figuring he was going to be left to die. He gathered some strength to reach his untouched arm to his chest and pushed his Faust off of him, into the mud, making a small splash and splashing little trickles of mud on his cheek.  
The pain was now unbearable, tears began blooding from his eyes. He figured it made no difference if he cried or not, it was raining anyway and no one would be able to tell he was crying. The tears flooding from his eyes, he eventually blacked out and fell unconscious.

_(Some German may be wrong. If you don't understand it, try using an online translator.  
If you don't know one, just go to and search for "Bable Fish" I hope that helps!  
Pardon my sucky German knowledge.)_


End file.
